Tag Archives: author

In the time I’ve spent away from this place, I have created six works, all ready to be purchased, all outlined below. If you’ve been following this blog for awhile, you’ll know that documenting my whole experience from writing to publishing is kinda this whole blog’s thing. As much as I like to use the blog for emotional release, I’ve never forgotten its true purpose.

1. The link below leads to one of the first novellas I wrote that took place in Melias. The main character, Thas, is a Warrior Shaman- a strange wanderer unique to the planet and all of its inhabitants. A hero first and foremost, I wanted this story to not only give the reader an excellent introduction into how magic can work in Melias, it also illustrates the finer points of Thas’ personality, ideals, and goals. Find yourself curious?

2. One of my favorite legends, this work depicts what can happen when people work together to oppose evil. I introduced a few new characters with abilities and secrets of their own, along with a vile. Antagonist. This story was meant to illustrate the mark of the truly privileged- apathy. And with apathy and power comes cruelty. Is your heart beating a little faster? The Heroes of this tale think it should.

3. This tale is one that stands to scream a hideous truth; shining light on the abuse and ruthlessness of man. However. Celat, a Ranger (and the protagonist), is a human that aims to turn these hideous qualities on those the most deserving. This tale illustrates that no man is invincible. No creed is certain, no fate, no fact. There is only Celat and the lifeless, broken bodies of evil men left in his wake. Push the weak around long enough and they push back. Hard. Did this speak to your darkness?

4. Might as well be a campfire tale. This work illustrates how the fanatical never make sense- and only seek to destroy what does not suit them. Humans have turned to human/animal sacrifice for eons to communicate with the otherworldly. More pleas than communicating really; hoping to appease a being that doesn’t answer to our base, and disgusting offerings. But…what if one such being answered back from behind one of our bloodied and broken boons? Indulge that shiver in your spine.

5. A tale coated in rust and scalded by salty winds of the sea, Gruun the Barbarian tests his mettle against seafaring bandits hell bent on raiding and destroying any village that gets in their way. The story seeks to truly highlight the mortality of even our most dangerous, horrifying foes and obstacles can be crushed, and crushed by everyday people like you. Ready to draw steel with Gruun?

6. Truly the best for last, this is the first novella I ever wrote for the 99 Cent Novellas series, and was a launchpad for my entire body of work to date. This legend follows Gruun as he carves his way through a nasty batch of bandits, putting his sword and skills to good use against evildoers. His employer, however, seeks to change the terms of his employment. This does not bode well for out hero. Witness a caged beast break free.

These are the works that I plan on presenting first because I feel like they make the biggest impressions. Not only do I want to entertain with my writing, I aim to enlighten, educate and inflict cognizance.

Truth be told, a lot of the fucked up things that happen to characters in Melias are based off of things I’ve seen, experienced, heard, or studied about first hand. Many protagonists highlight the best in humanity, while the antagonists highlight the bad; both sides constantly being influenced by the other while being influenced by nothing. It is this struggle that I am interested in. If you are a reader of the Fantasy genre, prepare to become obsessed.

Little busy creatures, bustling about. In all types of weather, all types of climates, all types of places. I watch them from afar, always studying. It is not a place of superiority, rather of curiosity. Stewing, I believe, is the term I’m looking for here.

My mind is not free from idea. My projects have slowed. But sometimes the need to write outweighs the want, and vice versa. It is the struggle of both that is so godamn tortuous. The thing I miss the most was spine. A writer’s voice. Mine has dwindled into a pathetic vomit of disjointed entries like this one, or as ambiguous pieces in the abstract. And the kicker is that there is no solid way of knowing whether or not it’s my voice as a writer, or just a load of fresh, steaming bullshit.

I think most of myself is twisted in hypocrisy and guilt. In spite of the light, it gets bent. Bent around experiences, fractured by pain, amplified by joy. But always malleable. It’s this fact that drives on the terrible point, hanging like an old noose at the gallows. Dramatic.

It’s all dramatic. Each emotion, each word I push forward feels like shit flavored molasses. I don’t have the will to write now. Not forever, mind you. But the strength of mind writing takes (for me) fails me. Fuck this entry, and fuck this day.

Like this:

Profound inspiration, or a driving will to create are often sparked by periods of intense emotional trauma, and are usually sustained by said trauma until the writer can find another source for production. This is true for many. Not all, but many, and I am one of those “privileged” few.

I have been working with Melias on and off for some time now, going with the ebb and flow of my mood swings. Out of a particularly dark mood, I created Gruun, a barbarian half-orc with a conscience and a penchant for honesty and raw beef. I don’t have a picture of him yet, so I’ll give you the details if you’re obsessive. He stand seven feet, two inches tall, covered in muscle. His skin is a rich, but muddy green, and he bares two large tusks that jut out of his bottom jaw line. His sword is five and a half feet long, and weighs about 125lbs. He is my response to a world that is strong enough to hold you down with a single finger.

He is the response (no, this is not going to be about politics, religion, or Syria) to a world that I see having much injustice, with too many good, decent people being hurt, exploited, and corralled by terror. Gruun is the terror. He is fear incarnate for the dark forces that perpetuate Melias, and he knows it.

I created Gruun out of need. We all struggle with darkness in life. Regardless of what that black spot on your soul may be, you know it’s there, and it wants you to know it. That’s Gruun. He is all of my basic Id feelings and actions wrapped around a good, decent, honest foundation. And wouldn’t you know it? He’s one of my favorite characters to write as.

I am still writing. I had a drought on WordPress because…I didn’t have anything worthwhile to share with anyone, to be honest. In that same vein, I am still on the fence whether or not I do, in fact, have anything worthwhile to share, but that doesn’t matter.

What matters is that I kept working. Thinking. Going. Like we all must.

These last few sample chapters I’ve been posting have been utter shit- just…fuckin’ diarrhea, fresh from my ass, onto my keyboard, through my screen, and directly into your eyes and I am sorry. So, what Im gonna do. Is overhaul each and every single chapter I’ve posted on this website (Except for Warrior Shaman. it needs to be edited, sure. But I KNOW I nailed that shit to the fuckin’ WALL YO) until awesome and then re-post them one by one, whether you like it or not.

I am sorry for my shitty work. I forgot that it is very easy to become those shit spewing, self centered asshole writers I am always slamming on. And THAT. Is not something I ever want to become. Never.

Ronah looked below her, her robes shorter than her brother’s. Sure enough, the pebbles were starting to move, and the tremors started to become more intense. A thunderclap of footsteps approached from the west, and a train of birds flew without direction away from the disturbance. The distinct sound of snapping wood got louder and louder.

“A giant?” Ronah said.

“A giant.” Her brother said.

“Is it headed towards Melgor?” Ronah asked.

“No, no. No. It’s headed towards the college. Look.”

A colossal humanoid crashed through the forest, causing the two siblings to run for cover. It carried a massive spine from an unknown creature as its club with thick bands of iron bent and jammed amongst the vertebrae, probably scavenged from the hull of a galleon. It reeked of body odor and dirt, its skin greasy with sweat and grime. It wore only a loincloth.

This was no ordinary giant.

Well over the canopy of the forest, the beast’s face could only be seen from the underside. The siblings watched in absolute horror as its loathsome nostrils flared, sniffing the air. It wasn’t long before they got a good look at the abomination’s face as it snapped its eyes to their hiding spot. The giant’s face was twisted in feverish anger, its lips curled back revealing two rows of tiny, blunt teeth in the front. Its eyes widened, the lenses glowing as the light shifted.

The siblings clutched at one another, paralyzed with fear. The giant new they were there it seemed, but couldn’t pinpoint where. A massive bead of sweat rolled off its nose, crashing to the forest floor. A plume of dust and pine needles rose before them not ten feet away.

“Geryl, we have to distract it.” Ronah whispered.

“How?” Geryl returned. “Be quiet.”

The giant crushed them with his hand. It ground their corpses into the dust, and then licked the gore clean from its palm. It stood erect once more, peering over the canopy, and saw the College of Demonic Studies in the distance. The giant screamed in fury and ran full speed at the structure.

The college was thrown into panic when the lookouts saw the giant coming. All except one. He crossed the courtyard deliberately, gently pushing the panicking students and faculty to the side. He step out from the main gate just as it closed, and started to walk towards the giant’s warpath.

His robes were black with silver hemming, the garb of a master. His face was stoic before such violence, and a hot desert breeze pushed sand into his graying beard. His eyes hid beneath his brow, the brim of his hat protecting his eyes from the glare off the bone white sand. He stopped moving about a hundred feet from the college’s front gate. He dropped his walking stick, and rolled his sleeves up.

It was a struggle to keep his footing as beast charged forward, its terrible club held high, its roar like demonic thunder. He winced at the sheer volume of it, but stood his ground. The wizard’s right hand balanced a turbulent sphere of energy that hummed and churned with unbelievable power. He cast his hand out, and a sphere flew from his hand faster than an arrow, aimed right for the creature’s right kneecap.

It hit home, making the beast trip and fall. The wizard did nothing, standing there. The chaos and screaming from the college had fallen silent. They were all watching this wizard fight the raw fury of nature, hand to hand- mind to mind.

The giant rose with alarming speed, and changed his target. It roared at the wizard, an object of its pain and fury. It swung its club downward upon the wizard. It lifted the club to see if his target was dead, but there was nothing in the massive impact crater his swing had created. The wizard reappeared on the beast’s left flank, immediately drawing its attention and provoking another swing. The wizard pushed his palms out, clenching his teeth. A massive pillar of sand rose and flew forward like a cannonball, aimed directly for the giant’s fist clutching the club. It’s hand flew backwards with the force of the strike, the club flying backwards and down into the Abyssal Maw.

Now infuriated, the giant charged the wizard with its fists clenched, its eyes wide and vacant, its mouth foaming. The wizard lifted his hands into the air and ignited two double helix shaped pillars of fire. He clenched his fists, all the while the giant still getting closer, and smashed them together. The shockwave knocked the giant off balance, and when it regained its footing, the wizard launched a twisting column of searing hot fire from the middle of his outstretched arms. The smashed into the giant’s face, making it howl in agony and stumble away from the flames.

When it pulled his hands from its face, a charred skull grinned back at the wizard; the giant’s face had been completely burned off. It started to advance, and then collapsed face first into the sand. It wasn’t long before it stopped breathing.

The wizard pulled his sleeves back down and picked up his walking stick. “Fuck you, cocksucker.” He said, and walked back to the college.

Like this:

Just got struck with inspiration and wrote the intro for one of my novellas. Tell me what you think:

99 Cent Novellas: Path of the Monk, Book One

All ideas and concepts by The Disfigured, 2013

Sunshine was expected in these parts, and it was beautiful to behold when filtered through the gnarled branches of the mangroves nearby. He smiled thinking about them, holding his groceries in a cloth bag. He shook his head as a small insect buzzed in front of him, smiling as he watched it dart off. The sunlight caught its wings- a flash of a dagger in a well lit room.

He had walked this trail many times before. It was easy to navigate, free of bandits, and civilized enough to deter some of the more…unsavory creatures located in Melias. But that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was a pleasant walk through a lightly wooded path in the middle of nowhere.

Nowhere, however, had residents. And they had been watching him for a little over a half an hour now. Five men, armed to the teeth, stalked their prey methodically. They intended to rob him of his goods, his money, his dignity, and maybe his life. The men looked at each other, and then to their leader. He smiled and shook his head “no”. They walked behind him, careful to mask their approach.

Flower petals jerked with the haphazard force of the wind, which also carried with it the scent of pond water and wild flowers. His soul finally felt like it had a place to rest. To call home. He turned to the south as the wind picked up again, hoping that he could smell the mixture of seawater and mangrove tea. He knew that the coast was close, but he could not smell its salt.

One of the five men broke off from the group and moved ahead of them all, waiting in ambush. The remaining four stayed behind their target, watching. He was completely oblivious- this would be the easiest money they’ve made in a long time.

The scout made his move, and stepped in front of their target. “Hold it monk,” the bandit said. “got a question for you.”

“I want no violence.” The monk backed away, only to be stopped by the remainder of the gang.

“Too bad sweetie.” One bandit said. His nose was massive and scarred; his eyes cruel and his skin unclean. He pulled a twisted dagger from his belt, and flashed a single silver tooth. It wasn’t long before they were upon him.

* * *

It also wasn’t long before the monk returned home to Cheldas, dozens of miles away from the nearest town, or city. This…was not something he was sad about. Townsfolk greeted him as he returned, showering him with gifts that he did not accept, and compliments which he thanked them for. He pulled a large loaf of bread from his bag and gave it to a few children playing in a puddle. Cheldas was a poor community, and this food would not go to waste. They looked at him, shy and smiling. He gave them a steely glance trying hard not to crack a smile. Suddenly, he lifted his arms up and yelled ‘BOO’!

The children squealed in delight as they scattered and ran back to their homes. Once more, the monk found himself smiling. He looked into his grocery bag and noticed three teeth resting in a patch of blood that had saturated the bottom of the bag. One was silver. “I think I’ll pawn you.” He said to the tooth, and hid it in his robes.

Like this:

Melias is a world of high fantasy, so there has got to be magic. I mean, what the hell are we all doing here if there isn’t magic in a fantasy world?

Many of the characters that dwell in Melias wield magic, so I figured, rather than pulling random spells outta my ass situationally depending on plot, I’d split all the magic spells in Melias into four groups: The Naturum, the Arcanum, the Etherium, and the Mysterium. An entry detailing all of these colleges would be long, boring, and dry. So I’ll do one at a time.

You see, each college’s name is a direct refection of the spell disciplines that each college has. Naturum focuses on spells that harness the raw power of Melias itself (the four elements) and at greater levels, a master of the Naturum college can command the intangible forces that govern Melias as well. Like slowing down time, or using the force of gravity to crush a heavily armored foe.

See? You got the college at the top, Naturum. Then, you have the Primal Source (where all the spells are ultimately drawn from) in a rectangle, and then the Energy Sources which are circled. The disciplines are where we’ll get into all the spells.

Spellcasters in Melias cannot just fling a fireball, or spit a curse. They must channel their focus deep into the primal source of the spell they want to cast and make it manifest into an Energy Source. For example, if I wanted to cast that aforementioned fireball, I would tap into the collective energy of ALL elements, and then make the fire materialize, often in my hand. Once materialized, I can recall the incantation verbally or in my mind (depending on my skill) and then let that fucker fly.

For those of you that are interested (that’s like…ALL of you), I’ll explain what kind of spells one can find in each discipline.